


Has anyone told you the meaning of colours?

by xforesttree



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel!Au, BAMF!Cas, Bi!Dean, College!AU, Established Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, F/F, F/M, Fluff, It's All Connected, M/M, Married Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer, Multi, Nurse!Meg, Other, Pie, Professor!Cas, Professor!Crowley, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Student!Dean, Wing Kink, ace!cas, alcoholic!benny, angels are a thing, bestfriend!charlie, dean is a dork, dean with glasses, fictional building, john is still dead, of course humans wanted to fight them, screw john, secretary!balthazar, student!Charlie, student!Sam, student!benny, student!jess, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-08-30 08:31:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8526076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xforesttree/pseuds/xforesttree
Summary: Someone moves into the house next door to the Winchesters and he has wings.In a world where angels were banned to heaven after a human-angel war it is not something that should happen, but then again Dean wasn't supposed to see it. He's not the only Winchester to get tangled in the struggle between angels and humans; Sam is a student of law, angel law to be precise, and he's been tasked to perform at a mock case at the LA court of angel law.





	1. Pie don't believe you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RaiChou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaiChou/gifts).



> Huge thank you to my editor @purgatoan for helping me perfect this little beauty and @amirosebooks for her honest opinion and tips on content and context
> 
> POVs are not necessarily in chronological order  
> Most angels are in their most well-known vessels as human form  
> I'm not sorry for making most characters not straight by changing the gender of one character
> 
> SamJess is established, Destiel is endgame, we'll see where the others end up

******Dean's POV**

 Dean couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the guy that got out of the car parked in front of the recently sold next door house. He had hair the colour of charcoal and eyes blue like the ocean and he looked sharp in his fitted suit. Now Dean had just been gauging what kinda person his new neighbour was, when he took off that dirty trench coat and revealed honest to god wings.

It wasn't like he didn't know angels existed, but since the revolution it was rare to see any that didn't hide the fact. The chilly autumn wind ruffled the mess of feathers as the angel stood there forlorn. They were black, as though they were a void to another dimension, but they couldn't be... Right? Then a ray of sunshine found its way through the thick deck of clouds making the feathers glow a majestic purple and white over their carbon black core, and Dean just stared.

They stood there immovable for what seemed like an eternity before the angel turned to look at Dean. He seemed shocked, had he not been aware he wasn't alone? The blue eyes of worry only met his green for a second before the new neighbour’s trench coat was slung over his wings and shoulders and he hurried into the cottage.

Dean, busted in action, couldn't help but blush. He hurried back to his house where his brother promptly sent him back outside to go on a food run, like he should have half an hour ago.

_Oops..._

He rushed to the impala and drove away without looking at the newly inhabited house, except through Baby's rearview mirror. Sadly, his view was blocked by the moving van which had just driven up to the angel's house. At least they hadn’t caught his neighbour like he had...

\-----------

He was strolling down the dessert aisle humming Metallica when he got smacked on the ass. He turned to tear whoever it was a new one only to find his childhood friend Jo sticking her tongue out at him. As usual, she was still in her roadhouse uniform;

_Did she even have any other clothes? Shouldn't she be working on a Thursday evening like this?_

He just shook his head. "If you weren't Bobby's girl you'd get a smack right back," Dean said jokingly. Jo just rolled her eyes and hooked her arm around his and they walked on past all kinds of vegan creations.

"We both know you'd never do that even if I wasn't, didn't you say I'm like a little sister to you?" She spoke with feigned innocence before poking him, "besides, Bobby isn't my dad-"

Dean rolled his eyes."Step-dad, I know. But our family isn't exactly built on blood, _Sis_." Bobby was like a dad to both of them; unsurprising since he was Sam and Dean’s godfather and Ellen, John, and Bobby had been friends since long before Dean was born.

They paused when Dean unhooked himself to grab a cherry pie from the open cooling cell. Jo raised an eyebrow at him. Dean shot her a wordless 'what?'.

"Dude, you bake the best pies in all of Cali." She considered what she said for a moment before adding, "don't tell my mom I said that. Whoever you're bringing a pie would surely appreciate a homemade one more."

Normally he'd fake a call to Ellen, just to spook Jo, but, instead, he returned the pie and started walking up and down the aisle grabbing ingredients. Jo offered to help and he made full use of ordering her around to hunt for faraway products.

* * *

 **Sam's POV**  

The sound of keys sliding into the lock was the final straw for Sam's focus. He hadn't written anything for his analysis of last lesson's case for over half an hour, his thoughts always wandering. Now that Dean was home he finally had an excuse to abandon his assignment. He almost flew down the stairs, slowing down only when he heard casual conversation echoing through the hallway. He walked into the kitchen only to get a branch of kale tossed in his direction. He caught it easily and yelled 'Jerk' to which his brother retorted with the usual 'Bitch'.

Jo walked up to him and pulled him into a hug after which she took the kale from his hands and stored it in the fridge. Sam couldn't help but grin as she hit Dean on the back of his head.

"Vegetables need to be cooled, not coldly thrown across the room.”

Dean pretended to be severely hurt and Jo, after an exaggerated eye roll, kissed him on the cheek.

“Ah, thank you, Jo. You’re an angel when you want to be,” he proclaimed.

Sam seized the opportunity to flaunt his knowledge on angel rights to Jo. She listened closely, adding experiences from what she remembered of the pro-angel movement she and her parents were a part of which cost her dad his life. Like usual, she praised her father like a war hero for having protected a flock hiding in their roadhouse. Their father had not been so fond of the “over glorified monsters with wings”. He’d volunteered for the human forces and after getting wounded on the field discriminated them any chance he got.

He’d hoped that he and Dean would follow his footsteps, but Sam had instead been fascinated by these supernatural creatures. Dean often teased him and if dad hadn’t died in the car accident the night of the peace declaration, Sam wasn’t too sure his brother would have gone to college with him.

It was then, that he noticed that Dean hadn’t made a single sly remark or offhand joke _only_ Dean found to be hilarious. He just seemed to be staring out of the window, watching the downpour. He was about to say something when his brother snapped out of it and went about putting away the groceries. Sam was pleased to see that the exact ingredients to a good honest pie were left on the kitchen counter. When Jo left, already late for work, he excused himself and left his brother to baking. He knew better than to bother Dean while making food.

* * *

**Cas' POV**

Cas nearly tore apart the sweater he’d grabbed out of the box at the loud banging on the door. He’d been jittery ever since his neighbour had accidentally seen his wings though he’d been certain no one was around and he could stretch his wings in peace. He placed the sweater back whence it came and stomped down the stairs, defeated. He’d spent hours going over every possible outcome of him living here next to someone who knows. Each alternative had been grimmer than the last. He was certain that the few positive scenarios were off the table. He hurriedly opened his front door, eager to get the imminent discrimination over with.

He didn’t expect to see the dark blonde, green-eyed neighbour on his doorstep or for him to look surprised. He was holding something covered in tin foil and seemed afraid to meet Cas’ eyes. It took the angel a while to realise he wasn’t being yelled at and the frown washed off his face. He tilted his head in confusion as he examined the man standing in front of him better.

Behind the black trendy, glasses a familiar face stared at him. At least some features were, he must have met a relative or an ancestor of the man. His attire of a blue plaid shirt atop a simple grey t-shirt and worn jeans didn’t exactly scream threat. Still, Cas was weary of the item he was holding, it wouldn’t be the first time someone had faked kindness only to abuse the trust it inspires. 

“Uhm, I-I saw you moved in and uh... thought I should welcome you with a pie?” Green eyes mumbled in an attempt to break the silence, clearly uncomfortable with being sized up.

“Was that a question or a statement?” Cas asked, his tone gruff. His eyes were locked on the “pie” that he was expected to accept.

Green eyes removed the cover of the plate to reveal a still steaming homemade pie which Cas hesitantly grabbed. There was something about the shy smile that Green Eyes flashed as he accepted the gift that made Cas relax.

“Thank you...” Was all Cas could muster, unsure how to respond to the seemingly genuine kindness.

Green Eyes scratched his head nervously before exclaiming, “Dean, Dean Winchester,” as though he’d finally found the answer to a pop quiz question.

Cas returned the gesture albeit it gruffly, “Castiel... Novak.” The foreign sound of his new fake last name rolled uncomfortably on Cas’ tongue.

The man, no, Dean, didn’t seem to notice his discomfort at what he hated most about moving: Lying. Every town, a new lie, a new last name. He often wondered why he even tried to fit in. Technically, his cover was blown, but Dean didn’t seem bothered by it.

He wanted to ask Dean so many questions but as the man’s phone started buzzing in his pocket panic shot through his bright green eyes. His neighbour ran off, assuring him that he could ask them for help with settling in anytime. Cas was surprised to find himself smiling as he closed the door, determined to turn this building into a home.  
****


	2. It suits you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas only moved in yesterday, but it seems he plays a huge part in the Winchesters' life. Of course, nothing ever goes well when these three are concerned...
> 
> Further development of this little AU and a peak into each character's daily life and struggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think will happen next and/or what ships/people you hope to see

**Dean’s POV**

It was somewhere in the early hours on Friday morning when Dean entered ‘Castiel’ into his search engine. The number of results was staggering and it didn’t take long before he was lost clicking from site to site until sunup. His journey had taken him from mythology to historical events and, of course, the revolution and its bloody battles. It even turned up some obscure discontinued book series called “Supernatural” and some messenger app where girls romanced a character similarly named Castiel. He knew he shouldn’t use his research skills to investigate his neighbour, but curiosity had gotten the better of him.

The sound of a door being opened, followed by soft footsteps and the bathroom being locked had Dean’s gaze flicker to the time on his laptop, knowing he wouldn’t be pleased with the time he’d find on the screen. The sound of running water hammered in his brain as he stared frozen at the display.

8:13 am, he was already late for his morning class. 

 _Crap,_ he thought

He hurried up to his room and switched his AC/DC shirt for a clean one. Throwing his notes and laptop into his bag, he was sure he’d forgotten half of what he needed. Breakfast turned into grabbing a piece of pie to go and a mug of cold coffee chugged with clear disdain. 

“You look like hell. Project keep you up all night?” Sam said, amusement clear in his tone. He was drying his hair lazily which only pissed Dean off further.

Dean shook his head and started tying his brother’s tie while muttering, “How come you always seem to have the best schedule? I thought studying law meant constant all-nighters.”

“It helps not to go out every other night and actually do your assignments on time,” Sam replied to which Dean responded by tightening his brother’s tie just a little too much.

Sam shoved his brother away and told him to go to class already. Dean huffed in annoyance but headed out the door anyway. His professor might not mind him slipping into class, but Charlie was going to kill him for leaving her with Benny. He’d rather fight with his group over the assignment all night every night than face his best friends' wrath.

* * *

 **Sam’s POV**  

Sam loosened his tie as soon as the door slammed shut and finished closing up the buttons of his shirt. As he passed the hallway mirror he sent a silent thank you to high heaven for not having dark circles under his eyes. With Dean’s shouting towards his project group and Jess’ worried texts regarding the case keeping him up, he’d expected to look more defeated. Today’s case was critical for his future in law, it would not be acceptable to look anything but his best.

He was just trying to scarf down some yoghurt and cereal when the doorbell rang. He rushed to the door and opened it, his hair fluttered into disarray at the sudden gust. However, what blew his mind was how stunning Jess looked in formal attire. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, a grey blazer accentuated her figure and the matching pencil skirt made her unrecognisable from her, often dorky, casual style.

“You got a little something on your-” Jess spoke and wiped off the leftover yoghurt on his cheek with her thumb. Sam couldn’t help but smile and wonder once again what she saw in him. She was smart, beautiful and confident, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t seriously considering marrying her.

“You look stunning,” he said as she closed the distance between them and placed her hands on his chest. Her smile made his heart beat loud enough for them to hear when she pulled him by his tie and kissed him.

They broke apart eventually and Sam let Jess in as he went to finish his breakfast. They went over the details of their mock case defending Gadreel against the collective human court. Very few have ever managed to win this particular trial which will grant them a full ride for Stanford law, but their professor wanted to end his career with a spectacle. Of course, Mr. Kripke had chosen them to pull off such a feat. Sam and Jess had been too flattered to decline.

“Hey handsome, I know Kripke will wait for us, but we’ve gotta make Mr. Novak’s class this evening too,” Jess stated and held up Sam’s jacket. He shrugged it on with her help and she helped him fix his collar before placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

When Sam opened the door he was surprised to find a man in a suit and trenchcoat standing on his doorstep. In his hands, he held a familiar looking plate. He glanced at Sam, then at Jess who’d joined him in the doorway and tilted his head in confusion.

“Are you Dean’s sibling?” Trench Coat asked, his voice deeper than Sam expected. 

“Yeah, name’s Sam” Sam replied and shifted his gaze to the plate before continuing, “you’re the new neighbour, I assume?”

Trench Coat didn’t stop looking into his eyes as though he was staring into Sam’s soul, yet emotionally answered, “Yes,” then held out the plate and continued, “I’ve come to return this, tell Dean I enjoyed his baked creation.”

Sam couldn’t help but grin at his awkward phrasing and assured him he’d tell his brother. After that, Trench Coat seemed to want to ask further questions but refrained and turned around. He then walked down the path leading back to the street where he got into a car and drove off. The Lincoln Continental shook with the music undoubtedly blaring inside. 

He had never seen anyone drive a car so contradicting to their personality. He’d figured him for something more tax accountant and less… pimp-y?

He didn’t give it much more thought, as Jess started pushing him towards her car, a five and a half hour drive ahead of them. He didn’t know why they couldn’t just hold the mock trial in the Palo Alto courthouse, but it wasn’t like he’d never wanted to visit LA.

* * *

 **Dean’s POV**  

“Hey Chief, you showed after all,” Benny bellowed as Dean took a seat next to his intoxicated friend. He looked at his watch to see that Benny hadn’t yet broken his record for earliest time to be drunk. Still, it was only 8:47 in the morning.

The force of what he assumed was a stack of notes met his head at the same time that Charlie hissed at him for the entire class to hear; “Dean Winchester, don’t think you can hide behind the vamp’s alcohol stench!”

“Ms. Bradbury, if you could save that enthusiasm for drama class rather than advanced calculus it’d be much appreciated,” Mr. MacLeod raised his thunderous voice for which Dean was grateful for once.

Charlie promptly stood up, bowed and with exaggerated sweetness in her tone said, “Of course, anything for the King of Hell,” before moving to sit right next to Dean.

No one talked back to Mr. MacLeod, or Crowley, as he made his students call him in drama class, so it was no surprise that the entire auditorium fell silent in anticipation for ‘ _The King Of Hell_ ’s reaction. At first, there didn’t appear to be one, the teacher’s pupils expanding to nearly all black. Then, he went on to unlock a cabinet in his desk, pulled out a bottle of scotch and poured himself a glass. Now, it wasn’t unusual for the man to drink, especially after hours, but he NEVER drank in class. Would he do so, Stanford would retract their usual leniency towards the habit which is based on Crowley’s classes repeatedly outscoring the others of the same course.

“Alright, demons and other hellspawn, we must return to the devil’s trade. Now, I don’t enjoy serving time in this fiery pit full of sinners any more than you do, but you should have thought of that before selling your souls to capitalism,” Crowley hissed, seething with rage. His no longer suppressed thick Scottish accent, loosened by alcohol and anger, sharpened his words enough for even the perpetual sleepers to wake up and focus.

Between Charlie’s unusual silence, Benny’s usual questions and occasional flirting, and the unholy pace at which Crowley hounded them through advanced separable integrals, class was torture. Dean’s brain had melted and he just zombied his way to his next lesson.

* * *

**Cas’ POV**

Cas had just come out of Ezekiel’s office when he saw a familiar face amongst the mass of students. He pushed passed the traffic and laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He could feel the panic radiate off him until Dean realised who he was.

“Hey neighbour, what are you doing here?” Dean asked his voice laced with exhaustion.

“We need to talk, follow me,” Cas commanded and started searching for an empty room. He hadn’t finished scanning the wing they were in when Hannah flared her grace in warning. His focus shifted back to the human plane of existence and found Dean trying to loosen his grip.

“Dude, I have class, can’t it wait?” Dean growled and then froze, “Your eyes…”

The lights in the hallway flickered as a rush of anxiety sent a surge of power from Cas’ grace. He felt his wings push uncomfortably against the confines of his trenchcoat. For the 349th time in the years since humans started to reject their angel rulers did he curse himself for not having mastered the skill to hide his wings in one of the many other planes of existence like many of his brethren could easily do.

Cas sighed and concentrated once more on the task at hand. Why had he even thought this could turn into anything but a disaster? He should just erase Dean’s memories of the other day, but something gnawed at him not to. It was eating away at him more than he thought comfortable and was determined to find the cause, starting at the root: Dean Winchester.

Regardless, he ignored Dean’s meagre pull on his arm and continued to drag him away from the dissipating crowds, then declared, “This is exactly why we need to talk, I’ll excuse you for your class when we’re done.”

“Can you stop pulling my arm? I can walk,” Dean hissed, and when Castiel released him, he began rubbing his sore arm. Then he continued, “I gotta admit that I am beyond curious, honestly, but my group **will** kill me if I don’t show up after last night.”

Cas tilted his head in confusion. What had his neighbour done to inspire homicidal tendencies in his peers? He found it rather ironic that students of school renowned for law would break them.

“They should know such an act would earn them at least 25 years in prison,” Cas said. If proven guilty in the state of California, that would be. That different states issued different sentences for the same crime seemed highly illogical to the seraph.

He didn’t seem alone in his confusion as his neighbour simply answered: “What…”

Dean licked his lips and stared at Cas in confusion. He seemed to have come to an understanding as his features relaxed and he rolled his eyes at Cas.

“I study engineering, not law,” He then said, his tone still somewhat hostile.

It was then that they passed a storage room and Cas ushered Dean inside. It was full of systematically filed documents of cases too old to be converted to the digital system. Dust particles danced through the air as they pushed past the shelves. Cas searched the room, determining they were truly alone, then locked the door.

Dean struggled for words as Cas let the trenchcoat slide down his shoulders and unceremoniously drop on the floor. “I’m honoured, but there’s no need to strip for me, buddy.” He scratched the back of his head as he not so subtly tried too hard to keep eye contact. 

Cas ignored Dean’s comment and stretched his wings, feeling the familiar sting of bruised feathers and the slight chill where there were gaps in the upper deck. The frayed fabric of the simple shirt scraped uncomfortably against the base of his wings, the skin red and itchy from the friction.

Having stretched, Cas focused on his task again and pushed Dean against the nearest wall, fairly certain the sight of his outstretched wings and glowing eyes was terrifying. Sure enough, Dean’s heartbeat was erratic and his chemosignals sent off a strong sense of fear as well as a muddle of others Cas didn’t bother distinguishing.

“ **No one** can know what I am. No one can know that you know. Do you understand, boy?” Cas’ voice thundered.

“Yes sir. Not even my brother,” Dean answered, his voice trembling. When Cas loosened his grip on Dean’s leather jacket he uttered a frail questioning “Uhm?”

Cas sighed before asking, “What is it?”

“I just have a question. A lot of questions actually.”

Cas distanced himself from Dean and said, disgruntled, “Pick one.”

Dean remained silent, his pupils jerking ever so slightly in different directions before they focused again on Cas.

“What is an angel doing on earth?” He asked.

“That is not of import to you. What is is that as long as animosity remains between our races, heaven will not stand for my identity being known. If, by some miracle, their judgment is lenient you might walk away with your memories taken, you don’t wish to know the alternative,” Cas replied, his voice distant and void of emotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @raichou , I know there hasn't been much stuff to fuel our wing!kink yet but I'm a sucker for slow burn :*

**Author's Note:**

> If you see this then this little story still isn't finished, I'm sorry. You can check my tumblr (morningstarcas) or twitter (xforesttree) for when the next update is coming out and the overall progress


End file.
